Tuesday, August 4, 2015

Anyone who pre-orders will get a chance to win a $100 Amazon gift card.

Down in New Orleans, Arelia quickly discovers that there is no rest for the weary or for the wicked. With Emilie desperate to destroy her at any cost, Arelia must act like a true Queen and find answers to questions that she isn’t ready to ask. From the spirited halls of Darkwood to the lush fields of Haiti circa 1790, Arelia chases after the past only to discover that the ghosts of yesterday never really die.

Filled with an unlikely romance full of danger, betrayal of the worst kind, an obsessive thirst for power, spirits with ways and means, Arelia’s strange and haunting world will spirit you away.

Tuesday, July 7, 2015

Hi Guys! Book 6 cover, release date and pre-order info will be posted on August 1st.

Here is a little teaser :) Enjoy!

Chapter One

They Would Do Anything to
Materialize Their Every Wish

Darkwood Plantation Present
Day

The summer
wind wasn’t warm enough to dry the fat beads of sweat that dripped off of my grimy
forehead. They trickled down my hot cheeks and further stained the once clean
yellow lace dress I wore. I unsuccessfully
tried to block out the taunting screams and drunken laughter that seeped
through the cemetery gate. As if mocking my plight, the wild swamp animals
joined in on the exhilarating hollers that continued to rise at an alarming
rate.

Despite the
eerie moonlight that shone on the gnarled oak claws the world was cloaked in a
heavy darkness. It took me a split second to realize that this darkness that
surrounded me wasn’t literal. It was spiritual. Something within my soul told
me that the world I once knew was slowly succumbing to this madness. In the
twinkling of an eye everything had changed. Everything I thought was truth had
evaporated into the ghostly past. One by one lies were coming out of the
antique French armoires. Whatever else was hidden would not remain that way for
long. Lies couldn’t be repressed forever. They had a way of catching up with
you.

The
only thing I could think of was running. I had to outrun the stench of toxic
herbs and spicy rum that hounded me. I had to outrun the claws that that tugged
on my hair. I had to outrun my past. I had to outrun The Past and somehow stop
it from manifesting in the present. I wanted to run until my bare feet turned
raw and bled viciously. Alas, as Bade
would lovingly say “silly Arelia.”

I felt
silly because I knew that I couldn’t run forever, but I was smart enough to
admit that I was terrified of the battle that lay ahead. I had made the mistake of buying into the lie that
had been forced down my throat since birth. The lie that insisted that time was
linear. Things happened and they forever remained within the confines of crusty
old history books. Society forgot the faces, voices struggles and warnings of
those who came before them and the world moved on. The past is over, but the
present you can seize and all of that jazz. It was such a limited way of
looking at life. I had come to realize that Bon Dieu was much bigger than our minuscule
perception.

“I’m hungry
and my feet hurt.” The irritated voice interrupted my philosophical musings. My
sweat turned ice cold and chills inched their way up my back. The tiny hand
that was entwined with mine tightened its sweaty grip almost crushing my
fingers in the process. I refused to look to my side. I couldn’t face her. “Did
you hear me? I’m hungry!!! My feet hurt and I’m tired. Do you even have a
plan?” The voice was getting increasingly annoyed with every step we took.
“Emilie always had food.”

I let out a
small sigh as I brushed away a wisp of Spanish moss that had managed to creep
into my ear. “Of course Emilie always had food,” I said under my breath. It was
the number one rule of war: food and entertainment.

I had
learned "Panem
et Circensus" from the million and one times that Sabrina had forced me to
watch Gladiator. She had claimed that it was the only movie in which Russell
Crowe would ever be remotely hot. Distract the masses with food and
entertainment while Rome burns. A
flashback from our ninth grade history class hit me. I remembered nerdishly cute Mr. Jackson with
his furrowed brow and floppy hair furiously reading us Juvenal: “The people who once upon a time handed
out military command, high civil office, legions- everything, now restrains
itself and anxiously hopes for just two things: bread and circuses.”

At that time Sabrina had mockingly stuck out
her tongue at his angst. In retrospect it became clear that ever step she had
taken had been a carefully placed sign prepping me for this big revelation. I
had been so clueless and attached to the material that I had completely
neglected the spiritual. I couldn’t think about that though. I didn’t have the
option of lamenting over the imaginary Sabrina Richards and beating myself over
my shortcomings. I had to take down Emilie and find Him. Who was this mystery
man and how did he have so much supernatural power over Emilie and Ghede
Massaka?

“I’M HUNGRY!!!” The tiny hand started to dig
its sharp claw like nails into my knuckles. “I’M HUNGRY! I’M HUNGRY! I’M
HUNGRY! You’re pathetic, do you know that? I’d rather be dancing with Ghede
Massaka and his smelly sack! Take me back to Emilie!”

I couldn’t face her. I couldn’t look at her. It
was too painful. The product of Cecile and Edmond’s twisted relationship was
forever perfectly preserved in the form of a beautiful baby zombie.

Friday, July 11, 2014

Wow. Long time. I haven't written an actual blog post in forever. Many of you are wondering why Suppressed took so long to be released. Well, it wasn't writer's block or lack of motivation. It wasn't because I got bored of the series or gave up. It was a case of letting the critics get to me. Letting other people tell me that I should end the series or focus more on this part or that part.

Some readers didn't get the point of Oppressed and why it was written. I let that get to me. Others said enough with the history already. I let that get to me too. Being an indie author is not easy. We don't have a huge team behind us to get us through times when we feel like giving up.

I got soooo focused on trying to make every single person happy that I forgot how much I love the series. I forgot how much I loved discovering the spirits, NOLA history, the characters. Finally with the help of some amazing friends, J and Rhonda, as well as my amazing readers who love the series for what it is, I was able to cast away self doubt.

Thank you guys! I love that you love getting spirited away.

I am planning 2-3 more books in the series and hope to have book 6 out before next year.

This advice from Anne Rice is now my new motto

I'm asked every day for pointers on fiction
writing. Here goes: the first thing you have to do as a writer is write. You
become the writer of your dreams by writing. Write, write, write. You aren't a
writer until you write, and all the pondering, considering, asking for career
advice doesn't matter until you actually write. Write what interests you, what
obsesses you, and not what you think might interest or obsess some one else.
Protect your own voice, your own vision, your own characters, your own stories.
Go where the pain is; go where the pleasure is. Create the book you want to
read, the book you want to live in; the book you love. And then be stubborn.
Never cave to rejection or criticism. Just keep going until you find those who
"get" what you are doing; and make yourself into the writer you want
to be. Ponder the absolute value of individual imagination, individual
eccentricity, individual discovery and surprise. And remember: the world needs
you. If you don't write the classics of tomorrow, we won't have any.